My Darkest Hour
by queendraconis
Summary: When Hermione runs into Draco one night in her home town she has no idea how it will go on affect her. Nor does he.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: My dreams have told me again and again that I am JK Rowling. But alas. I am not. I don't own the Harry Potter series, much to my dismay. Nor do I aim to make profit from it.

She found him on the floor. Slumped against a set of dirty steps that led up to a building she took no notice of. She couldn't see his face; only the silhouette of his crumpled form and the way the limited light fell upon his hair. She had been in the library all day, absorbing all the information she could manage before the doors were inevitably closed and she was politely ushered out of the building. When she wasn't at Hogwarts she felt almost as if she had no purpose, and by spending countless hours acquiring all the knowledge she had access to, she was able to partially fill the void that her absence from the school had created.

She was on her way home one night, taking a shortcut she knew she shouldn't ordinarily take, when she stumbled across the person she least expected to see in such a close proximity to her home. There was no mistaking him; his silver hair and his robes giving him away. The way he was laid, almost lifeless in the cobbled street, made her jump to the worst conclusions.

"Malfoy?" she said, inching closer to him, her wand ready in her hand just in case.

"Leave me alone" He retorted. His voice still holding the same malice it had always done, and no doubt always will she thought. His body hardly moved, and his eyes remained shut but he couldn't mistake her voice. It was sickly sweet and innocent; everything he despised. He could never forget that voice in a million years.

"Are you okay?" Her voice was almost as cold as his, just a hint of concern warring around the edges.

"I told you to leave me alone you infernal woman" He all but snarled at her, his head lifted up and his eyes snapped open to glare viciously at her. His head was in a whirlwind. He couldn't understand why she had stopped and approached him, let alone asked if he was okay. 'Who the hell did she think she was?' his internal voice screamed at him. Although inside he knew it was wrong of him to think such a thing, he was in her world now. Everything that was once his he had forsaken, and it had forsaken him.

"Do you realise that's the first time you have called me anything but my surname or mudblood?" She asked in a hard voice; determined to match his coldness.

"I am well aware of that." he replied in a tone of finality.

Hermione, not one to be beaten, was determined to find out why he was invading her usually peaceful town, and with an action that went against all of her instincts she took a step towards him.

"What are you doing here?" She said through clenched teeth; his presence was staring to wear on her, and the fact that she had exhausted herself by reading all day made her more irritable than usual. Not that she would ever accept the fact that Malfoy was within a million miles of her with anything more than contempt.

"What do you think I'm doing here, Granger? You're top of your class in everything, you work it out" He spat at her.

"I don't know. I don't even care" her voice was resigned; she had had too stressful a day to deal with Malfoy.

"And so the natural order is restored" He said with a bitter laugh

"Excuse me? Have you lost your mind as well as your dignity?"

"Quite possibly. We are destined to hate each other. We are natural enemies. Why would you stop in the street and ask if I'm okay? I think the evidence points to you having lost your mind as much as I have"

Hermione laughed. Maybe she had lost her mind. Asking Malfoy if he was okay, of all people; what was she thinking?

"You looked dead. I was making sure that you were"

"Sorry for the disappointment" Draco laughed bitterly once more before replacing his head on the cold stone of the step on which he was laid, hoping to Merlin that she would leave him the hell alone.

Hermione hoped to God she would never have to see Malfoy again.

**A.N.**

So quite a short start to this; my first Dramione! I just figured this was as good a place as any to stop and didn't want to drag it out unnecessarily. The next chapter/s will probably be longer (I hope) but we'll see as this progresses. Also I'm awful at writing dialogue so sorry if I killed it.

Another thing. I'm not entirely sure yet when this will be set but for now I'll say the break between sixth and seventh year. Just don't hold me to that.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. I am not Jo Rowling. –Sobs-

Hermione awoke in a daze; automatically forcing herself upright out of bed and pulling her hair into a loose pony tail. It was a minute before she realised she was at her old house and not in her Hogwarts chambers.

"Fucking Malfoy!" she muttered under her breath, as a minor part of her mind considered who on earth would actually want to 'fuck' Malfoy. She guessed that his appearance the night before had put her mind into automatic pilot and had assumed she was back at her beloved school. Or maybe it was a product of wishful thinking that she was. Or maybe both, she thought. But as soon as she had had the thoughts she brushed them off and blamed her being half awake for even thinking Malfoy could affect her in any way. She came to the conclusion that it was probably a combination of the homesickness and stress causing her to think irrationally.

She flopped back onto the bed and glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table; it was 7:20 am. Her parents wouldn't be awake for another hour and half and the lack of anything in the fridge meant that she couldn't make breakfast until her mum had been to the supermarket. She contented herself with a coffee and a few biscuits and sat down to read the transfigurations text book that she had bought for the up and coming year. It was only the second week of the holidays and she was already incredibly bored of being at home. She had read through all of her textbooks twice and had read many other books in addition to these and she still wished she had more to do.

Thinking of Hogwarts made her mind wander to Malfoy, and to the questions she had asked herself so many times; Why the hell was he here?, and what was so bad that he had resorted to being in a muggle town? Whenever she thought about the state he had been in last night she felt uncomfortable, like she was never supposed to see him like that. She wondered idly whether he'd actually remember their encounter or whether he was so paralytic that he'd forget everything. She didn't realise at the time how inebriated he was, but when she reflected on it when she got home it was obvious that he had been drinking, and in very large amounts.

It wasn't just this that made her feel uncomfortable though. She had realised that when she looked back on the situation that she felt something akin to pity for him. She was used to seeing him 'all high and mighty' as Ron referred to it, but seeing him last night made her realise how far he had fallen. It wasn't that he didn't deserve everything that he got, but that some part of Hermione suspected that he didn't choose to be arrogant and blood prejudiced and that he had been expected or even forced to act that way by his father.

She shivered thinking of the times she had seen Lucius Malfoy. He had always set her on edge and intimidated her since the very first time she saw him. There was something about him and the way he glared at her, almost with murderous fury, that had her cowering behind Harry and Ron. She had always thought that Draco would eventually become so much like his father that it would be hard to determine which Malfoy was which. She assumed that he was next in line to be 'Slytherin King' as it were and that he would take on the same fate as Lucius. But when she thought back on his appearance and manner the night before, she wondered whether he would ever be the same as his father. She doubted Lucius would ever insult his 'pureblood' status by stepping foot in a muggle town, let alone getting in a drink induced stupor that resulted in him staying there for well over 5 minutes (that she was witness to) and having a conversation with a muggle-born witch without once calling her a mudblood or trying to curse her.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

Draco was woken by a brutish middle aged man shoving him down the steps of a rundown tavern. Judging by the force of his pushes Draco would have guessed that he was an ex wrestler, or maybe he was just in one of 'those' families. His father had told him about muggles as a child. He told him how repulsive and barbaric they were, and he told him of how the lowest of muggles resorted to a life of 'so-called crime' and 'so-called violence' and battled each other for power and control over their towns. He resented every single one of them.

Their idea of crime and violence were nothing compared to what he'd had to live with all of his life. They had no idea of real danger, or of fear, or of death. Draco had been witness to things they wouldn't imagine. Things like his own parents torturing muggle-borns in his dining room when he was nine years old. He had watched through a gap in the door as a woman clawed at their highly polished wooden floor as she begged to be released; as she begged to be saved. His father had seen him stood there and invited him in to take a seat. He looked on in frightened horror as his mother protested and his father told her that it would be "good practise for him for the future". He had felt petrified that day, and if he hadn't found the nerve to move his legs and run he would have had to bear witness to the death of an innocent witch.

As a young child he had thought that everyone was innocent. He didn't understand why his father spoke with such repulsion when talking about certain people. He didn't realise the existence of muggles and muggle-born witches and wizards until that day. Lucius had followed him and brought him back to The Manor, where he made him sit in their east living room as he explained to him how the woman he had just tortured and killed did not belong in their world, and did not deserve to be living. He told Draco that all people except for pureblood witches and wizards were vermin, and that he should never acknowledge their existence, except to sneer and victimise. And this was the belief that was enforced on him throughout his whole life, and if he ever disagreed with it he would be silenced and sent to a solitary part of The Manor in which he would be locked in for an entire day. He soon learnt to be an obedient and silent son. He never spoke his own mind again, and after long enough he forgot his own thoughts and opinions and grew used to the beliefs of the death eater's so much that he mistook them for his own. But however much his mind had changed he couldn't help but think that the woman was still innocent.

That day was repeated many a time at Malfoy Manor. Most of the time he was 'invited' to watch, although forced may be a better word for it, and a lot of the time his mother and father played the gracious host and invited their 'friends' as well. He blamed their 'friends' for his lost childhood, and thinking back on his time at The Manor he despised every minute of it.

And yet he still wished he was back there.

He missed his mother, and the way she would sit in the library with him and read in companionable silence. Sometimes she would even hug him when she suspected he was upset or displeased about something. His father showed him no emotions; it was not the Malfoy way. But as much as he disliked his father he was still that; his father. And he hated to think that he had disappointed him and his mother. He would never be able to return to his home ever again. Bringing shame on such a powerful name was something that could not be forgiven. Not even his mother would accept him again.

The week before he left had been hell on earth. His father hadn't spoken a single word to him, nor had he acknowledged his presence. As far as he was concerned his son was now dead. Draco wondered if Lucius would simple prefer it if he was. His mother had spoken more than his father but only a few words every now and again. He could see the disappointment in her eyes and it upset him more than he liked to admit. She only spoke when she came to give him meals. He had taken to hiding in the library and only leaving at night to sleep. It was easier that way, when he could avoid his mother's glare and stay well out of the way of his father's cold ignorance. But as much as he liked to spend his time reading, though, it wasn't quite the same when he was left in solitary. He desperately missed Narcissa. And it was this that had made him leave. He couldn't take another day of her being cold and distant; he decided that he would rather distance himself completely than see his mother separate herself from him as much as his father had done. That had been the worst week of his entire life.

But at least he had had a bed then. For the past 2 days he had been sleeping rough. Oh how people would love to see that; Draco Malfoy sleeping on the streets without a single knut to his name. He was a disgrace. He wondered if people had heard of his disappearance, although he dismissed this quite quickly. People couldn't care less about him when he was there, why would people talk of him when he wasn't. He knew of one group of people that would have heard for certain; The Death Eaters and their glorious lord and master. He thought this with such repulsion and bitterness that he shocked himself. He had aspired to become one of them since he was a child, so why did the thought of joining them now make him did feel sick to his stomach?

As he settled himself against a wall in a deserted arcade he wondered how he had failed to notice the days passing. He was starting to disregard time and its' passing altogether. He wondered if he'd be dead by the time he noticed, and that was a thought that chilled him to the bone with fear. He hated the thought of wasting his life and achieving nothing. His whole life had been one big attempt to make something of himself, and to make his parents proud. That was why he'd gone against their wishes in an attempt to make something of his life; in an attempt to make himself a good person. Because of this he determined to get himself out of the situation he was in and to lose the status as a homeless beggar. He fell asleep against the cold stone of the cobbled street and dreamt of being happy. He dreamt that he would have someone that loved him by his side, and that he would be successful, and also that his parents would be proud of him. But the most significant part of the dream was that he was good; he was truly a good person.

When he awoke, again disturbed from his sleep by the hustle and bustle of the busy muggle street around the corner of the arcade in which he had taken to sleeping, he had a determined mindset. He decided that if he was to get back on his feet, so to speak, he would have to have money in order to rent a house or – what was it that the muggles called one story houses – an apartment. And to have money he would need to work, because he had spent the last of his money on buying as much alcohol as his money would permit on the night he left. So that morning he set out to get a job.

By the evening, he had been in everywhere from a toy store to a coffee shop and every single place had turned him down. He was close to returning to _his_ arcade, as he now called it, when he noticed the library set back from the high street and nestled behind a crowd of shady trees. When he was walking towards it he wasn't even thinking of applying for a job; he just missed reading, and having a book reminded him of his mother whom he severely missed. He figured he would ask politely for a membership and take out a book each day, and that would give him something to do to pass the time.

He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy; he was stepping foot in a library for Merlin's sake. He had totally forgot about his little run in with Granger 3 days ago when he heard a sarcastic voice behind him as the librarian filled in the forms necessary for him to take out a book for the first time.

"Draco Malfoy in a muggle library; who would have ever thought you'd have stooped so low?"

"Leave me alone, Granger" He retorted in a cold and uninterested tone

"So tell me; what's so bad that you can't go back to the famous Malfoy Manor and just take a book from your own extensive library?"

"Shut up, and leave me alone" He almost whimpered. Her mention of The Manor had completely broken his cold and malicious exterior and he felt the pain that he often did just before he went to sleep; the pain of being away from his home.

"Sorry" She said quietly. And he could have sworn she had just apologised, but he convinced himself that he must have misheard.

The librarian turned back to him and handed him his library card and the books, and without a single glance in _her _direction he headed straight for the door and didn't even turn around to close it.

The door slammed shut with a deafening bang as Malfoy stormed out of the library. Hermione didn't know what to make of him. He had seemed so 'Malfoy' at first; all arrogance and malice, but something in his voice when she mentioned Malfoy Manor made him sound almost upset. That was why she had apologised; she was truly shocked to have heard some emotion in a voice that was usually so unfeeling and heartless.

She wondered if he was the same Malfoy that used to taunt her day and night, or whether he had changed. She also wondered if he had lost his mind, because she could have sworn blind that he had just checked out a copy of 'Guess How Much I Love You'; a children's book her parents had read to her as a child. He can't have done, surely; she must have seen wrong.

**A.N**

Updated with corrected spelling mistakes. Note to self: Do not update whilst half asleep at 3 am. Also I should probably say that when writing this, I'm not taking into consideration the events that happen in The Deathly Hallows. For example – as Draco has left home in this, it wouldn't make sense that he was back at The Manor in Deathly Hallows.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, nor do I make any money from it. But I do have a little Harry Potter figure and that belongs to me!

It was below freezing by the time Draco was walking back to the arcade. He, yet again, hadn't noticed time passing but the clock on the town hall said it was 22:00. He was sick to death of bumping into Granger. She reminded him of everything he wanted to forget and of the person he should be. He should be arrogant and offensive and even malicious, but when he ran into her in the library all he could feel was hurt and ashamed. He was ashamed because he should have felt superior, like she was beneath him, but all he could feel was that he was so far beneath her. She had everything he wanted; parents that loved her, a bed, and a home. But despite all of this he couldn't help but think that he should want other things, like his superior name, money and his status, and yet he couldn't quite keep himself from longing for a home. Not a house, or a manor, but a home. He wasn't paying attention to which way he was walking, or even if he was walking at all. He was so oblivious to his surroundings that he didn't see the bushy haired girl that was walking towards him, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice that she was on the same path as him, destined for collision.

Hermione left the library, several books in her arms in addition to the books in her bag, at around 21:45. She had stayed until after closing time again, and was making her way back to her home on the edge of the town when she stopped in her tracks as she saw an unruly blonde head walking in her direction. Her stomach flipped and her thoughts were in a daze; should she apologise, or should she just ignore him like she used to do? Her panicking was short lived, however, as the blonde walked straight past her and she sighed in relief. It wasn't him. She cursed herself for being so paranoid and flustered. She didn't usually react this way to Malfoy; she normally tried to forget his existence all together, but for some reason he had been preying on her mind all the time lately. Her mind passed around all manner of thoughts and questions, the foremost of which being 'when did Malfoy become so affected by what people said to him?' and 'what had happened that had resulted in him leaving his home?'. She thought about this for what seemed like an hour, when in fact it had only been 5 minutes.

She was getting closer to the edge of town when a thought struck her like a lightning bolt. She hadn't been paying full attention to Malfoy's appearance before but thinking back on seeing him in the library, under blaring lights that left nothing hidden, she realised that he had looked so different from how he looked at Hogwarts. The times she had seen him before he had been immaculately presented, and Harry and Ron often joked about the amount of time he probably spent in front of the mirror making sure his hair was pulled so far back that it made his face look more aggressive. A small part of her brain had been taking in how he looked when she ran into him, whilst the majority of her mind had been, initially, thinking up a witty insult to stun him into silence, and latterly, being stunned herself by his reaction to her words. He had looked rugged. She never in a million years expected to see Draco Malfoy looking rugged, but he did. He looked awful; his hair all over the place, unshaven, his clothes looking untidy and his robe looking extremely over worn. She realised, with a start, that these were the exact clothes that he had been wearing when she saw him 3 days ago. She wondered if they had just been similar clothes, after all he was rich and probably had a lot of duplicates of his favourite clothes, but she stopped that thought in its' tracks. He didn't look rich or like he had a large amount of money in the bank, which he undoubtedly did. He looked almost homeless.

And then she was stopped in her tracks altogether. She was concentrating so much on her thoughts that she wasn't looking where she was going. As her eyes focused on what had stopped her walking she realised that she had walked into somebody, and that her books were laying on the ground.

As Draco bent down to pick up the books that he had made him or her drop in his own careless walking he was surprised to see that one of the books was on potions. So they were a witch or a wizard. He had found another witch or wizard in this damned town. His heart jumped; maybe this person would help him, and he wouldn't have to spend another night sleeping rough. And then it hit him; the thought that had been niggling in the back of his mind. He had already met a witch in this town; a very familiar witch indeed. He straightened up to return the books with a grimace on his face. He knew exactly who he would see when he stood again. And sure enough there she stood, looking dazed and as if she was trying to piece together reality. So she hadn't been paying attention either. That explained why she hadn't hurled a thousand insults in his direction.

As she watched the silvery blonde head bend down to pick up her books her thoughts were disjointed and nonsensical. She couldn't move, or talk, or even think coherently. All of a sudden she found herself face to face with Draco Malfoy, yet again. She didn't know what to do. He was looking at her expectantly, and almost nervously, and she realised that he was holding out her books for her. She took them from him without thinking and willed her mind to function properly.

"Thanks" She said after a moment's awkward silence. "And sorry. I wasn't paying attention"

"No" He said, almost reluctant to talk to her. Almost; not completely. "I wasn't either. I suppose I should apologise'

"No. No don't do that" Hermione replied, rushing her words. She did not want an apology from him. She barely wanted to be stood within a meter of him. "I was as much in the wrong"

"Yes. Well. Good" He replied awkwardly. His thoughts were as disjointed as hers.

"Malfoy. Erm" She had said before her mind had even realised she was saying the words aloud. Internally she swore at herself for not being more in control of her voice.

"Yes?" Impatience and annoyance colouring his tone.

"I'm sorry. For what I said in the library. I didn't realise I'd be offending you. I suppose I didn't want to offend you."

He was stunned. He didn't know what to say. Had she just apologised to him?

"Erm. It's okay" He replied after a short while, not knowing what else to say. He wished he would walk away. He had nothing to say to the infuriating girl, but he found himself stood, rooted to the spot, staring numbly at her as he tried to think of something that made sense to say to her. It had been so long since he had spoken to anyone that he found himself wanting to engage in conversation with the most unlikely of witches. But she was better than nobody and, as much as he loathed admitting it, he felt a bit lonely.

She couldn't think of anything else to say, and absently her eyes wandered to the books he held to his chest. Amongst which was the book she had thought she'd seen earlier. Her mind, once again, was filled with questions, and before she could stop herself she spoke.

"Curious choice of book." She said nodding her head towards the book clasped to his chest. "Didn't have you down as a kid's book lover"

"That's none of your business" He said harshly. He should have walked away while he had his dignity intact.

"So what, you get Pansy pregnant did you?" She returned his tone of voice as they fell back into the same routine of bickering school children.

"Like I said; that's none of your business. But no; I didn't get Pansy pregnant as a matter of fact" He spat her name with such repulsion that made Hermione silently wonder if Pansy was the reason he wasn't at Malfoy Manor. The last time she had seen them together they appeared to be as disgusting as ever. She never failed to drape herself across his lap and fawn over his every word. They made Hermione feel sick. She could see the adoration in Pansy's eyes and wondered what on earth made her want to have Draco Malfoy for a boyfriend in the first place. The thought brought her crashing back into the real world and she realised she was still stood in front of the aforementioned Malfoy. She tried desperately to remember what he had last said to her and replied as fast as her mind could form a response.

"Then why have you got that out of the library?" She nodded towards the book. " I don't understand" She said with resignation

"And you never will" He replied with the same bitter laugh that he always used when talking to her or her friends. So much for thinking things change, she thought to herself.

"Right. I wouldn't want to understand you anyway" He was really starting to annoy the hell out of her now.

"Good. Do try and stay away from me, won't you Granger. Your stalking is beginning to get quite unhealthy"

"My stalking?" She screamed at him. "What the hell do you mean 'my stalking'. You're everywhere I go. I can't even go to the library without seeing you there for Merlin's sake. And now I run into you on my way home. Don't you have a damn house to go to, instead of following me to mine?" She was incredulous, how dare he say she was stalking him!

He laughed. And for a while that was all he did. She glared at him while he just stood there doing and saying nothing.

"No" He whispered eventually, and set off down a side road. She stared for a moment, her mouth slightly hanging open, not quite believing what she had just heard.

Hermione had no idea where the road went, but for some bizarre reason she found herself following him down it. What in God's name was she doing? She was following Draco bloody Malfoy! And for what – because he had said he had no home. So what? She never gave a toss about him before, why should his welfare affect her now? And why the hell couldn't she make her feet turn around and stop following him? She held back a small distance, just enough so that she could see where he was going but not close enough that he would hear her footsteps.

She watched as he turned down a dimly lit alley and walked into an old shopping arcade. She had been there when she was a child. Her mum had taken her to the Christmas market that was held there annually, but after a while people stopped going and the arcade became disused. She didn't realise you could still walk through it, but watched as he pulled the gate aside and stepped into the darkness inside. She walked closer to the gate, not intending to go inside, just to see what he was doing. If he didn't have a home then was this where he was sleeping? Surely not, he must have some secret business here. There must be somebody using it as a meeting place. She assumed that he'd be staying in a high class hotel. He had more than enough money for that. She didn't realise that the gate was still open but as she got nearer she could see that it had been left ajar. She clung to the walls as she entered the arcade, trying to hide from sight against the wall at the right hand side of the gate and as she looked around, trying to make out shapes in the darkness, she heard a sharp voice that sent shivers down her spine.

"Granger. I know you followed me. Why won't you leave me alone?"

It took a while before her thoughts made any kind of sense, and she found herself answering more honestly than she would have wished'

"You said you had no home. I was curious as to where you would go. I didn't expect you to come here. I don't know why I followed you." She said is a quiet voice, as if she was confessing ungodly sins.

"Cause you're a nosey know-it-all?" he offered.

"Yeah, probably." She said, resigned. She really had no idea why she had followed him. "But I still don't understand why you're here. And why you're talking to me. Aren't I keeping you from something? You must have come here for a reason"

He laughed suddenly "Let me guess. You think I came here for a secret rendezvous with death eaters?" He said bitterly.

She was scared; she had actually thought that for a split second. "No" she said defensively, but she worried that she had answered too suddenly and that he would guess that he was right.

"Yeah, I thought so. So if you thought I was coming here to meet death eaters then why did you still follow me? I could have been luring you to your death for all you knew" he said, scaring her half to death.

She considered retreating, but decided that even if she did try to run she'd be dead anyway; she couldn't get away now. She was half petrified and half furious.

Taking in her appearance, Draco realised with a start that she took what he said as literal. She looked terrified. He should have felt glee at making her so scared, but all he could feel was remorse and guilt.

"I haven't lured you here to them. I wouldn't" he said so fast that he didn't know if she had heard.

"How do I know that? How am I supposed to believe a word you say?" She said, still terrified.

"I wouldn't. I'm." He could not find a way out of this without telling her way more than he wanted to. He swallowed his pride and just let it out. For some bizarre reason he felt awful scaring her, and felt like he had to make up for making her feel like that.

"I'm not like them anymore. Why do you think I'm here? This isn't some place I arranged to meet someone; this is where I've been living" He said, looking down while he told her. He felt more ashamed than he had ever done in his entire life.

She was speechless. For the first time in her life she couldn't find anything to say to him; no witty comeback, no insult; nothing. So she just watched him speak.

"I didn't want to be like them. I haven't for some time. I know that you're aware of what happened with Dumbledore. I was supposed to kill him. That was my mission. My initiation, you could call it. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill. It was seen as cowardice amongst the death eaters. And when I told my father I didn't want to be a death eater he disowned me and ignored my existence. After a while I left. I couldn't stand seeing my mother ashamed of me. They're the reason I'm here; the death eaters. So there's no point in worrying that I'm going to hand you over to them. They'd kill me as soon as look at me"

He braced himself for her reaction. He expected her to laugh at him, or to hurl a thousand names and torments. At very least he expected her to run away from him as fast as possible. Her reaction, however, was something he had not prepared himself for, and he flinched as she took a step closer to him.

She had been silent the whole time he had been speaking. She guessed that he had been holding that in for a very long time. And from what he had said about his father she suspected that he'd had nobody to talk to for some time. By the end of his speech she felt close to tears. Nobody deserved to be treated like that by their own family; not even Malfoy. She had never been affected by him like this before; she hadn't even wanted to cry when he called her vile names like mudblood, but right now after what he had just told her she felt so bad for everything he had been through. She realised that he hadn't been like his father as she assumed, but that he had been playing a role and pretending to be like that for the sake of keeping up appearances. As she thought of everything he had just told her about the things he had been through she felt so much sympathy towards him than she believed would ever be possible. She found herself doing something that terrified her, and as she looked up at the figure in front of her she unconsciously took a step towards him and without thinking put her arms around him and pulled him into a hug.

He couldn't quite believe what was happening to him. Nor could he believe how nice it felt. He smiled a little to himself before he remembered who it was that was hugging him. A small part of him didn't actually mind that it was Hermione Granger that had her arms around him.

**A.N**

I doubt any of you are from near me (Halifax, UK) so what I'm about to say won't make sense, but I got my inspiration for the arcade from a place in Leeds called Thornton's arcade, which is, contrary to this, full of shops which sell a lot of awesome things (mainly comic books and chocolate – what more could you want?) It's also not at the end of a dark alley; it's near the busy main shopping street. But enough of that - thank you to everyone who has reviewed this or added it to their favourites so far. I really appreciate it, and knowing people read it makes me want to continue.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so I'm really sorry for not having posted anything for ever, I hit a major brick wall with anything productive in my life; it all went out of the window. Hopefully I'll be able to get fully back on track with this. For now here's what I've written following chapter 3, it's not much but I hope it'll make up for the delay. I'm writing the next part right now!

Disclaimer: Still not mine

Hermione stepped back from Draco and turned to walk away from him. She couldn't believe what she had just done, and she didn't want to face his reaction; he was sure to laugh at her and tell her to get away from him. Well, she thought that she'd save him the effort and walk away herself.

As she began to walk away she felt a hand close around her wrist and turned around to see Draco looking at her with an expression on his face that she couldn't understand.

"Don't tell anyone about this. Please... About me being here... Just don't run off to Potter and Weasley and tell them I'm living...here. I don't want them coming here and hexing me. I don't-" He sighed, looking down at the ground; he couldn't look her in the eye. "I don't have a wand" he finished quietly, feeling more open and unguarded than he had ever felt before in her presence.

"I...I won't" Hermione replied. After a while she realised that she had been just looking at him for quite a long time without noticing, and that all her rational thoughts had numbed and all she could think about was how vulnerable Malfoy looked.

"Did your...did Lucius take your wand from you? Hermione questioned hesitantly

"Yes. He wanted to humiliate me, because I had shamed the family name." He smiled bitterly "So he took everything away from me. My wand, my textbooks, most of my clothes; practically everything. He didn't want me to practise magic anymore; he said I didn't deserve the Malfoy blood."

"Oh..." was all Hermione could say

"Well...shouldn't you be going somewhere?" Malfoy asked, slightly confused by her continued presence. "Like...you know, a home or something. Well, that is unless you want to move into my luxurious parlour" he smirked as he gestured with his hand to the space around him

Hermione laughed quietly and then damned her laughter. She was supposed to be appalled to be near Malfoy, not (despite her best efforts) laughing at his jokes.

"I'm sorry...was that a smile just then, or am I hallucinating" Malfoy looked vastly amused

"Hallucinating. Definitely hallucinating." She looked down as a small smile somehow found its way upon her face "Look Malfoy...I know we're not exactly friends or anything but... I feel kind of bad about you staying here... Now that I know you have nowhere to go, I mean."

"Why?" Malfoy sneered, taken aback by her words. "And I apologise for preying on your conscience, but don't bother with your pity. I don't need it!" He almost snarled the last words at her.

"Don't you?" Hermione looked unaffected by his tone of voice. "Because right now...I kinda think you do."

"What's your point Granger? Was this your intention in following me?" And to think that he had fallen for the _genuinely curious_ act. "You came to gloat" he said, disgusted. She should have been a Slytherin; not even some of them were this malicious.

"No! I didn't!" She almost shouted, then continued in a smaller voice "I still don't know why I followed you, okay? I wasn't exactly thinking. I suppose your appearance in my normally Malfoy-free home has confused my mind and it's all messed up now. So thanks for that"

"Wow Granger. I didn't know you were _that_ affected by me." He sneered

Hermione glared. "Shut up, Malfoy. Just shut up! See, this is why everybody hates you. Because you're arrogant and self-absorbed and you couldn't care less about anyone but your own damned self" she spat at him

"All my best traits..." Malfoy laughed

"Goodbye Malfoy. Enjoy your squat" Hermione smirked

Draco cursed as the only person he had spoken to in weeks walked away from him. Sure it was Hermione Granger, but there was a fleeting moment in their conversation when it seemed like neither one of them actually cared who the other was. It occurred to Draco then that despite the fact that he had been raised on the ethos that he was better than everyone, that he didn't actually care if he was or not. It was just another thing that his father had enforced on him, and he even felt a little better knowing that he was now on the same level as someone.

He always had a way of barricading himself inside his own head; putting on a front that nobody could break through. It scared him to think that for one second he had actually lowered his guard. To Granger of all people. He tried to wrap his head around the fact that she had broken down his barrier in so quick a time, but couldn't actually comprehend it. Maybe this place was getting to him. Or maybe it was the insufficient amount of food and drink that were making him weaker. He once again settled in the place he had taken to sleeping and determined to put stupid Granger out of his head and hoped that he wouldn't end up running into her again. Although if he was being completely honest with himself, the hope was only half-hearted; as much as she bugged the hell out of him she was the only person he actually had in this place. _Oh Merlin,_ Draco thought as his mind started drifting off towards sleep_, I'm relying on Hermione bloody Granger for company._

Draco awoke with a start, and as was customary, looked around him in complete bewilderment before something clicked into place and he remembered that he wasn't at The Manor anymore. He listened as a rather loud vehicle – lorry, van, whatever it was called- sounded as if it was destroying the road on the end of the arcade. As he sat up to stretch out his body, which ached painfully from the nights of sleeping upon a concrete floor, something caught the corner of his eye. It looked, from a distance, to be some kind of a box. He looked at it, confused as to how it got there, and stood to further investigate. As he neared it he could see that it was a wicker box, one that reminded him of one time when his mother took him to the lake on the end of the Manor's grounds to eat lunch when Lucius was away. He cherished times like that and wished his childhood had had more of them, but Lucius would never allow it; it wasn't the Malfoy way.

An odd feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach as he approached it. He wanted, more than anything, for it to be something from his mother, for it to be _anything_ from her. But he knew that it couldn't be; she had no idea where he was, nobody did. He guessed it was from one of the shops on the high street and that it had been blown inside over night, and put the hope that had begun to build inside of him completely out of his mind. He bent down to look at it and his heart practically jumped out of his body when he saw that there was a label attached to one of the handles. He allowed himself to hope once again, but the hope was short lived as he read what was written on the small piece of paper and groaned.

_As much as I'd enjoy it if you starved yourself to death, it's probably better if you had something to eat and drink. _

_Hermione Granger._


End file.
